A Time to Dream
by Booth'slittleanthropologist
Summary: When Booth starts having symbolic dreams about him and Bones, things get tricky at the lab. Can he keep it together around her while concentrating on the case and waiting for his next little night-time "adventure"?
1. Chapter 1: Which way?

The hunter tread ever so slowly towards the edge of the forest, his steps relaxed and easy now. His journey had been so long to this point that there was no reason for him to hurry. His target was in sight. In plain sight. The hunter sighed softly; he had worked so hard to get here. Harder than he has ever worked before. Snow begins to drift slowly to the ground. He glances up and marvels at this winter's treat that is rare back in his homeland.

His alert hunter's attention is drawn quickly back to his prey and his heart softens. The sight of it breathing softly, its frame rising slowly with the rigors of slumber made his stomach turn. What _was_ he doing?

Yet… what was the harm? Didn't he do similar things everyday? How was this different? How were his morals clenching at the thought of his next act when he slays animals everyday! This was hardly different than that! Hardly…

He stopped at the edge of the silver forest. Taking one last look at his beautiful prey, he raises his mahogany bow and slowly cocks a brilliantly feathered arrow.

He finger almost sensually lets go of the gut.

The arrow twangs out of his hands, knifing through the air, times slows to an impenetrable crawl….

Booth sits dead up right in his bed, panting as if he just ran a marathon. This was the third time he's dreamt of Bones this week. Today was Tuesday.

This dream was slightly more symbolic and disturbing than the last. Shooting Bones with an arrow? The hunter obviously wanted to cart her of as his wife.

Well… that _is_ an interesting scenario. Booth slowly lies back down and shuts his eyes….

A handsome prince stops and gazes at the princess's door. It was ornately carved with scenes of mythic importance, lending to the princess's intelligence that he loves. The prince's hand stretches out to the handle, caressing the smooth, cold metal. He eases open the oak and enters the secret haven.

The princess eyes him cautiously as she sits on her bed. Her beautiful tiara is slightly askew and her gray eyes are filled with tears. The prince crosses the room and joins her on her cloud of depression.

His arm reaches over to her far shoulder, attempting to offer some needed comfort. Tears fly down her face, making his heart break. He envelops her into a sweet smelling hug.

"I love you…" he whispers the beautiful sentiment and it permeates the room like a floral perfume.

She nods slowly, adding her consent. In her delicate state, the prince can hardly expect her to reply coherently.

The princess edges closer to him and presses her lips lightly to his. The soft pressure and salty taste mixed with her familiar one out-weighs the repercussions that would ensue if they were caught. The prince's mind wanders and before he realizes it, they fall back softly onto her perfect duvet. His mind sparks as she runs her hand ever so softly down his half open, white dress shirt...

The stark reality jolts Booth awake again. His head pounds and he struggles to make sense of his fading dream. In typical Booth fashion, his mind wanders to what should have been the next part of his dream…

Maybe later he concedes as his eyelids become lead and droop slowly. He was too tired and the next day with Bones was sure to be….

Booth's alarm goes off at 6:00 sharp. His usually favorite radio station lets him down today and blasts some generic Miley Cyrus song. Booth groans and gropes blindly for the off button in the dark.

After a few internal, get up!'s, and even more, NOW!'s, Booth finally stretches and plops his freezing feet on the dingy carpet he hates. He struggles to find his favorite suit jacket, almost impossible since they're all virtually the same, a fervent omen that today was not a good one.

His morning got even worst from there, tripped over shoes in the hallway, burnt toast, couldn't find his badge, lost his car keys....

Yes, he thought, what a beautiful morning indeed. But as Booth walked into the Jeffersonian this morning could go either way…


	2. Chapter 2: Why so prophetic?

Ok lol I sorta realized today that I forgot a AN and a disclaimer on the last chappie so: blah blah blah I own nothing blah blah blah thanks for reading blah blah blah leave a review blah blah blah PLEASE! Lol

Booth did a little double take when he saw Bones inspecting a bone, that one that he ALWAYS forgets and she has to remind him daily of. Her hair was down and falling in soft waves around her beautiful face, her lab coat was unbuttoned father down than usual exposing a bit of black lace, and her feet were encompassed in Booth's little weakness… black high heels.

Her right eyebrow rises delicately when she sees him, mouth agape. Bones walks down the platform to meet him, a devilish smile on her face.

"I took the liberty of having the FBI just send over the skeleton. Nigel-Murray is checking out the scene." The floral perfume that surrounds her like a force field reminds Booth of his nighttime adventure.

Booth nods, not daring to take his eyes off of her just in case he misses something important. You never know with Bones.

Bones gives him an odd sort of look, but says nothing and just heads back to her skeleton.

Since Booth has practically no work to do, he wanders aimlessly around the lab, watching Bones work her magic yet trying to seem disinterested in her, talking to Cam yet trying to seem disinterested in her and interested in Bones, and trying to be interested in Angela's little gadgets yet interested in none of it but Bones. Basically, Booth's got Bones on the brain.

Their normal lunchtime comes and goes like the wind and when the clock chimes two, he finally goes and simply stands on the other side of the examination table.

"Yes?" Bones looks up slightly annoyed.

Booth laughs shortly, as if she doesn't know. "Bones!" He whines hoping to strike a chord in her walled heart, "It's two and we haven't eaten yet. Aren't you hungry?"

Bones finally cracks a smile after simply staring at him, "Of course I am, I just… I just got caught up in…" She gestures to the abnormally small skeleton.

"And how old did you say the victim was?"

She looks down at her chart that's covered in her fast, childlike scribble that Booth finds so un-Bones-like. "Fourteen, but that's the problem. The skeleton is way smaller than should be expected. The patellae have some abnormal wear too. It's all oddly puzzling. It looks like a sort of Baker's cyst but I'm still not sure."

"Oh." Booth looks sadly down at the skeleton, "She was so young. How did she die?"

Bones consults her chart again to no avail, "I don't know yet. I'll have to keep working. Angela's doing a facial reconstruction now so I can't check the skull."

He looks at her optimistically, "That means we can go to Sid's right?"

Bones smiles tiredly, "Yes, that means we can go to Sid's."

After a very long and tiring and boring day, Booth finally just went home and left Bones to work on her little skeleton. He went through the motions of getting ready for bed, but his mind was on the after part. Sleeping. Or more accurately, dreaming.

What would it be this time? Maybe a Roman slave dealer and his slave-girl… Maybe a young Egyptian man courting the beautiful girl down the street? The possibilities were practically endless.

In a dreamlike state already, Booth climbed slowly into bed, closed his eyes, breathed in and out slowly…

The debonair, masked marauder concentrated hard on the man facing him. The waves of heat rose sensually, his woman let out a small cry as he fingered his gun, and the man across from him narrowed his eyes menacingly.

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and his back as the sun bore down on them. A man on the sidelines counted down. "3! 2! 1…"

He reached for his gun impossible fast… and fired… sending the other man flying back. But his gun had already gone off… the impact had hit him just as he had fired making the bullet go off course…

A scream pierced the air. Time seemed to be in slow motion as his head turned to find the unlucky target. His heart beat faster than time itself.

"Temperance!!" He screamed. A dark red stain was spreading above her heart; staining the new blue dress he'd just bought her.

He rushed to her, kneeling on the ground and cradling her head. Tears flowed down his face and dripped unsteadily onto her dress.

Temperance struggled to smile at him and her speech was slurred, "S… Seeley…"

"Yes, my love?" He attempted to regain his composure as shouts for the doctor swarmed around them.

"I…I love…" Her eyes closed slowly and her head dropped to the side and her hand went limp in his.

He screamed in pure grief at the sky…

Booth started with a jolt as his alarm went off, covered in a cold sweat. His fingers went to his cheeks, which were strangely wet as if with tears. Bones… He sniffed. How could he dream that? And why did it seem so prophetic?

AN: ok so I already figured out an ending… that's the problem tho cuz I'll have problems getting there! OK, if u have ANY ideas for a booth dream, tell me cuz I'm running out! BTW, if u wanna guess which bone it was in the beginning, be my guest. David Boreanaz will hav something special for u in the next chappie! ;) One of my bbfs is the vic! She's way too not so happy bout that. All the descriptions about her are true!


	3. Chapter 3: Gabriella Nox

I don't own Bones… sigh. Anyway, I labored over the topic of this chapter all week long! I decided on doing a little chapter that I didn't want to do so soon, but I couldn't think of anything else until today when I got a little inspiration while singing. I believe another disclaimer is in order. I own no part of this movie this chapter is based on… If you haven't seen this movie, the chapter may seem a confusing to you. Sorry about that, but this is more of a filler chapter just so you all won't lose hope in me!

Booth POV

I bent over my sad little typewriter and hung my sad little head as I typed my sad little words. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. The Moulin Rouge… . . .ruled over by Max Keenan. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved. Temperance. A courtesan, she sold her love to men. They called her "the sparkling diamond", and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge. The woman I loved was dead."

I gazed out of the window, reminiscing. I had first come to Paris one year ago…

I was standing in my shabby little apartment. Quaint, but shabby. I had come to join the other children of the bohemian revolution. To write! To write about truth, beauty, freedom, and above all… Love! But, I had never been in love! How was I to write about what I most believed in when I had never experienced it?

Luckily, right at that moment, an unconscious Argentinean crashed through my ceiling and was quickly joined by a short man curiously dressed as a nun.

"How do you do? My name is Henri Marie Raymond Hodgins-Lautrec Montfa! Sorry, we were just rehearsing a play!" The unconscious Argentinean suffered from a disease called narcolepsy. "Awake one minute! Asleep the next! Hahaha!"

The play they were rehearsing was very modern: something called Spectacular Spectacular. Unbeknownst to me, and after some hard deliberation, I was to read the unconscious Argentinean's role!

I ended up standing on a hill while Hodgins was singing, "The hills animate with the euphonious symphonies of descant!"

Audrey shouted for him to, Stop!, and there seemed to be a slight disagreement over Audrey's lyrics.

Inspiration struck me as I struggled to sing out my lyrics. I raised my voice and pushed through the fighting, "The hills are alive with the sound of music."

"Yes!" Each member of the troupe cried out in exasperation.

Emboldened by their praise, I tried the next line, "With songs they have sung for a thousand years!"

"Yes yes yes! You should co-write the play with Audrey!"

But this was not was Audrey wanted to hear, as she stormed out of the apartment. The now not unconscious Argentinean praised my talent, "I like him!" He reached up to put his hand on me, but seeing as I was on a ladder, his hand ended up in a very uncomfortable spot. I gasped. "Nothing funny! I just like talent." And to my relief, he removed his hand.

And so it was that I was to write Spectacular Spectacular for the club Moulin Rouge through a little plan of Hodgins'. The only problem with this was that I was to audition for Temperance… the most beautiful courtesan in all of Moulin Rouge.

It was this night that I had my very first taste of… Absinthe. The lights on my good fortune flared up as we danced, sang, and laughed with the green fairy. If only this could last forever…

And if only I could finish this dream. This horrid in between place of dreaming and waking was the worst part of these bittersweet episodes. I had watched this random movie on some random channel and fell in love, so to speak.

Despite the beautiful love I'd experience dreaming this dream, I couldn't bring myself to want it when I knew the ending. The painful ending of that movie I loved so much… Moulin Rouge. Flashes of dream me and dream Temperance flashed by at the speed of light… beautiful, loving moments between us. It all flashed by so fast and I wished with all my might that I could experience the love between the beautiful courtesan and her penniless writer. Moreover I prayed silently I wouldn't have to experience the end. To experience the end of another dream Temperance would be…

I clenched my fists and the crisp bills rumpled. The glaring light blinded me as Temperance fell at my feet. Let her suffer! Let her crawl away in shame for nothing I had done in the past months meant anything to her! I write love songs for her and love her unconditionally and believe in her and everything else and she has the audacity to leave me for a few creature comforts!

"I've paid my whore!" I threw down the money and stomped off stage… past the beautiful Moulin Rouge dancers, past Max Keenan, and past the duke. Past the duke who had stolen everything from me. I looked back, tears rolling silently down my face, "Thank you for curing my ridiculous obsession with love!"

Booth leaned against the cold railing of the forensic platform reading over the file Bones had prepared overnight. "You stayed all night? Did you get any sleep?"

Bones stifled a yawn, her silky brown hair down and outlining her square skull. Oh yes, Booth did pick up a few lessons from Bones every once in a while. "I stayed, but I did sleep for about three hours."

Booth slid the file onto the platform and placed his hand gently on Bones's shoulder. "I want you to go home, Bones. I'm worried that you'll catch something."

To his intense surprise, Booth saw tears well up in Bones's deep gray eyes. "No. No no no no no! Booth! You don't understand! I can't figure out how she died. I'm sleep deprived and I... I... I'm a failure!" The tears streamed down her face and her beautiful gray eyes were red-rimmed.

Booth spread his arms in a rough circle shape, "Come here, Bones."

She glanced up at him, the tears having stopped, "Is this another guy hug?"

Booth swallowed and choked out the word, "Yes." He swept her into his arms and they stood there, not thinking and just feeling.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bones wormed her way out of his warm embrace and ran at full tilt onto the platform. "Bones? Did you have an epiphany?"

She picked up a bone near the skull and ran her fingers lightly along it's surface, "Stress fractures! Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner?"

Booth swung himself up and over the railing to join her by the bones, ignoring the stares of the security guards. "Cause of death, I presume?"

Bones looked up at him, eyes shining and said, "The hyoid!" and then in response to his blank look, "She was strangled! The hyoid only breaks in adults and that's why there were no markers! The bone is simply too soft."

The loud clicking of high heels alerted the pair to Angela's arrival. "Got a hit off my facial reconstruction."

Now they were talking Booth stuff, "Oh, lovely." She tapped a few keys on the computer and a missing persons report filled the screen.

The girl was small and willowy with sharp features and brown curly hair. "Gabriella Nox, age fourteen. Last known residence: Winchester, Virginia."

Booth frowned, "Now for my favorite part. Informing her parents."

Bones stared grimly at the skull, mentally confirming the identity. a slow agonizing death with no other signs of distress or a struggle. Maybe the killer was sympathetic to this sweet-looking girl... maybe it was a random act arising from conflict. A crime of passion. Only time and facts would tell...

A/N: Hope this wasn't too short for you, promise the next one will be longer. You'll get to meet me! Yes hahaha I did put myself into the fic. All names of my friends, including myself and their parents, here's a little spoiler to tide you over.

"And what of Dominic?"

Booth looked at the distressed mother thoroughly confused, "Dominic?"

"My other son! Gabriella's twin. They went missing around the same time."

A/N: dun dun DUNNN! Another vic? Oh no!!!!


End file.
